


Little Hero

by Blitzindite



Series: Prompt Me [9]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Blood and Gore, Gen, Psychological Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 13:49:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18592519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blitzindite/pseuds/Blitzindite
Summary: He couldn’t bare to see that pocket watch with its broken chain and cracked face. He couldn’t bare to see the snapback with blood spattered against the temple. They were there to mock him. To remind him of his failure.





	Little Hero

**Author's Note:**

> What’s this? I have no idea! But here, take it! :D  
> Prompt 8 of my Forty-Theme Challenge. Prompt was "betrayal"

"̴Loo͝k at m͝e̵."̸

 

Dull blue eyes flickered up, only to flinch away at the black pools to meet them.

 

"Tch. Sǫme ͏h̸er͡ơ.͜"

 

Head heavy on his shoulders, the hero watched the glitch leave. He’d long since stopped jumping to the sound of the heavy metal door slamming shut in Anti’s wake. If anything it was a welcome sound. It meant relief. And relief, however short, was a welcome thing.

 

Pulling at his restraints, Jackieboy ground his teeth against the dull ache in his joints. He wondered if they’d ever stop hurting. If the ache would ever fade, or if it would just grow more unbearable. He was certain the chair had left deep bruises anywhere it touched. His fingers creaked and crackled as he curled and uncurled them against the edge of the armrest. He couldn’t bare to look in the corner. The tears would come back if he did.

 

He couldn’t bare to see that pocket watch with its broken chain and cracked face. He couldn’t bare to see the snapback with blood spattered across the front.

 

They were there to mock him. To remind him of his failure. The youngest two. Dead.

 

The tears still welled up even as the hero refused to look at the items. He tried and failed to blink them away; squeezed his eyes shut when they spilled down his cheeks.

 

Don’t cry. Don’t show that…that _thing_ any more weakness.

 

He couldn’t do it. Choked on a sob that shook his shoulders and made it hard to breathe.

 

Their creator was in a coma somewhere. Schneep hiding out with the man. No one knew where they were. Marvin…Marvin. He’d disappeared much like the doctor. Please, please be safe, all three of you, the hero begged. Please…

 

Jackie hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep until his head was snapping up to the sound of the heavy door opening. He swallowed. Braced himself for the glitch’s entrance.

 

"̢I̛ ͢ha͝ve ͏som͟eth̛įn͏g ͟for y̶o͏u,͠ _h͏ero_."͘

 

He tensed. What could—

 

"̸O͟ne͝ ̵to͟ g̷o~͜"͢

 

…No. Oh, god, no.

 

A whine surfaced in the back of Jackie’s throat when the mask was tossed at his feet. The string was snapped, an ear broken off. One of the eye holes was stained red. The blood was still glistening.

 

“Mar…vin?”

 

His voice came out as a soft croak. He hadn’t spoken in…how long?

 

"͜He̶ does ҉h͠a͠ve͜ ̷a̴ vo̕ice!̡" The glitch’s mockery fell on deaf ears as Jackieboy stared down at the mask between his feet.

 

Marvin…he-he didn’t—

 

Jackie’s breath stuttered as new tears spilled. The magician wouldn’t have gone down easily. He would have died exhausted, bleeding out, unable to stand for a moment longer. Afraid, but defiant.

 

"͏N̷o͠w ̷leav̛e̷s͝ th̵e ̨d͠oc̕tor͏. Oh. An͡d͟ ͠yo͞u͞~̨"

 

The hero couldn’t find it in himself to even flinch away when the glitch’s hands were gripping his jaw. Marvin, and Chase, and-and Jameson… He wanted to cry. To scream. To beat the glitch before him until Anti couldn’t get up again. He wanted to. He should have felt something. All he felt was…numb.

 

"B̶r̴oken̸ lit̷t͏le ̷hero. You'v̧e͏ gro͟w̸n ͢bori̕n̕g̢.͢ ̢Tch,͞ t͞ch. ̡T͡o̶o͘ bad.͏ You͡ and t̸h̛e̢ dear̢ ̴docto͜r w͠e҉re͢ ͘so̷ ͜close͘. Like ͡b҉rothers͟~ Wou̕l̵d͘ ̧he̢ ̢n͏ot̢i͢c͡e͜ y͠o͟u͡r̕ abs͟enc͝e͝?"̵

 

“Please…”

 

"'҉Please̡' w̢h̢a̛t, ͢li͢ttle ͏h͝e͢r͟o?"

 

Do anything to me, he thought. But please, please, don’t hurt Schneep. “Don’t kill him.”

 

The hero swallowed when he felt a knife under his chin to force his head up. “Please,” he begged again. Could Anti even hear him? His voice was so…so small. Broken little hero, indeed…

 

The door opened. Anti stepped away to allow the hero’s head to drop again. Rushing footsteps. A voice calling his name. A familiar… _German_ voice. Jackie’s eyes widened and head snapped up.

 

Schneep! Oh, god, Schneep!

 

…Schneep. What…what was he doing here?

 

“Schneep..?”

 

The doctor lifted his head in careful, familiar hands. He was smiling. His eyes…

 

Were cold. So, so cold.

 

A flash of shining silver. Jackie reeled against the back of his chair. He was choking. He couldn’t—he… The hero’s arms flexed against their restraints as blood bubbled up his throat; as it sprayed and dripped from his mouth with every cough, every attempt to gasp for air. It pooled from the wound across his throat to further stain his torn jumpsuit.

 

A knife, much like the one Anti always had on him, dripped the hero’s lifeblood. The hand that held it loosely tightened when the hero’s head finally fell against his chest as he stilled.

 

“’Like brothers’?” the doctor muttered with a roll of the eyes in the glitch’s direction. “Please.”


End file.
